


Cry and Let me Taste your Tears

by 1478963255



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crying, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Hair-pulling, Lesbian Sex, Light Bondage, Pubic Hair, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 08:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20288395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1478963255/pseuds/1478963255
Summary: Mercedes cannot seem to hold herself back around Ingrid any longer; watching her friend sweat and cry turns her on more than she cares to admit. She finally decides to concede to her desires and taste every tear and drop of sweat of Ingrid's.F/F lesbian oral. Light BDSM, rape/ non-consensual and forced lesbianism.





	Cry and Let me Taste your Tears

“Ingrid, why do you push yourself so hard?”

Ingrid’s heavy lance cleaved through the training dummy, splitting the burlap in half. Straw emptied out onto the dusty floor where her boots left heavy imprints, and droplets of salty sweat that beaded at her forehead dripped onto the dust. Ingrid breathed heavily and glanced back at Mercedes who stood in the doorway, half to her chest, clutching at her shawl.

“Hah… because I have to,” Ingrid breathed. She wiped her forehead with her sleeves and flexed her grip on her lance. It was heavy and the weight of it felt good in her hands and the ache it gave to her arms when she swung it was painfully satisfying. Mercedes put a hand to her cheek worryingly.

“You don’t have to push yourself as hard as you do. You’ll hurt yourself,” Mercedes spoke softly and stepped into the training room, following the edge and her azure gaze never left Ingrid’s sweaty form. Ingrid twisted the lance in her hands and swung it once more, in an upwards sweeping motion, cleaving through the straw dummy, severing its head from the spike it sat upon. Mercedes swallowed hard.

Ingrid tossed her hair back from her shoulder and panted for breath once more, staring at the mess of straw on the ground. “I do have to push myself. I want to be a knight. A knight good enough for His Highness. Like Glenn was.”

Mercedes watched Ingrid’s face. It held a mixture of emotions; exhaustion, determination, self-doubt, sadness and melancholy. They swam in her eyes, watering until finally tears spilled over. Mercedes watched and followed the tear that rolled down her face, enraptured. Heat flushed in Mercedes’ pale face and she attempted to cover her cheek with her hand even more to hide the growing blush and stirring heat that crawled up her neck.

Ingrid, thankfully, took no notice and turned her back to Mercedes, setting the lance back in its resting place at the weapon stand. Her hair swayed and swept behind her, the tip of her braid skimming her lower back, brushing her behind rhythmically. Mercedes’ stomach twisted hotly.

There was something about Ingrid’s desperate, sweaty body that burned a desire inside of Mercedes, something she had never felt so strongly before. The tears rolling down Ingrid’s face absolutely enthralled her and had her mesmerised. She almost longed to lick the tears from her face and taste her desperation on her tongue. Mercedes brought her lower lip between her teeth, biting and sucking softly as she watched Ingrid leave, watching with hungry eyes.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, Mercie!”

Glancing up from her meal, Mercedes smiled sweetly at Ingrid. The previous night had passed by slowly and Mercedes spent most of the tossing in her bed, legs shifting, thighs rubbing uncomfortably, images flashing by of Ingrid’s body beneath her, just as sweaty as the night before. A heat crept up onto her face, but she did her best to hide it from her friend.

“Morning Ingrid. I hope you’re not too sore from last night’s training,” Mercedes commented spooning some sweet berries into her mouth. Ingrid laughed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly then flexed her left shoulder, rubbing at it with her right hand.

“Ah, I guess I am, Mercie… only a little though and it’s nothing to be the best knight for His Highness!”

“I do not doubt you will be an effective knight,” Dedue spoke. “But I will the best knight for His Highness.” The Duscur man barely looked up from his food and spoke confidently and calmly. Mercedes laughed gently at Ingrid’s shocked expression and how her eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Dedue!”

“I am merely stating a fact.” Mercedes swore she saw a grin at the corner of the dark-skinned knight’s mouth. Ingrid grit her teeth and huffed, putting her hands on her hips and turned on her heel.

“Fine. I’ll make sure I train even harder than you, Dedue!” she called after her. The man barely flinched and continued to spoon the milky oats into his mouth, eating quietly. Mercedes watched Ingrid head back towards the training grounds and felt a familiar hot curiosity creeping back up inside her.

Mercedes watched raptly from her seat in the training grounds. It was her and Ingrid alone in the arena where several dummies lay torn and strewn across the floor. Ingrid heaved another up onto the spike and huffed, out of breath, staring it down before picking up her lance again. Mercedes had watched her tear through three other burlap dummies with ease and yet, she hoisted another up to tear that down too.

“Ingrid… don’t you think you’ve done enough today? The stars have been out for a long time.”

Starlight twinkled through the open archways and owls hooted in the rafters. A brisk night breeze washed through the training room which caused Mercedes to pull her shawl even tighter around herself, but Ingrid had her sleeves rolled up and was dripping sweat. It caused her gold hair to cling to her forehead and silver moonlight danced off her glistening skin. Her knuckles were almost white with the tight grip she held on her lance.

“Ingrid…” Mercedes called out again, but she was ignored. Ingrid charged at the dummy, plunging her lance deep into the dummy’s straw stomach, ripping it back out and spilling wheat across the floor. She spun around, twirling the lance over her head and shoulders to attack the left side of the dummy’s head, drew her lance back and with a fierce yell, thrust it into the dummy’s head.

Mercedes’ legs quivered. She crossed them even tighter than before and felt the uncomfortable warmth spreading between her thighs. Ingrid’s heavy breathing vibrated in her eardrums, even though she sat a distance away from her. She chewed at her lip hard, almost biting through until she finally pushed herself up from her seat. Mercedes took gentle steps towards Ingrid and put a hand on her shoulder. She could smell her sweat from up close. Her head swam.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Ingrid,” she whispered. Ingrid hung her head and smiled weakly, nodding.

“I think you’re right.” Ingrid turned to face Mercedes, finally meeting her gaze. Her hair clung to her forehead and her cheeks were flushed red, her lips parted to draw in oxygen which she desperately needed. Mercedes took her handkerchief from her breast pocket and wiped at Ingrid’s forehead, tilting her head backwards to dab at her jaw. Her exposed throat glistened silver in the empty training ground and Mercedes had to resist every fibre in her being not to lean forward and run her tongue along the sensitive salty skin.

“Before bed… how about we have some tea, hm?” Mercedes offered.

Ingrid smiled sincerely and nodded. “I’d like that.”

Mercedes smiled back and allowed the desire to swim in her stomach and seep through, between her legs.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two girls sat in silence in Mercedes’ room. It was quiet, the late hours of the night and there was little to be heard besides the soft breathing, gentle tea-sipping and quiet hooting of owls. Ingrid sat on Mercedes’ bed with her shoes off and Mercedes sat at her desk, legs tightly pressed together. The smell of Ingrid’s sweat swam in her nostril, overpowering the smell of the chamomile tea in her hands.

“Ah,” Ingrid sighed contentedly. “This is my favourite tea, Mercie. Thank you.”

Mercedes swallowed the hot tea down and placed her cup on her desk. She waved her hand dismissively and placed the other in her lap, pushing down on her skirt. “It was no problem. You deserve it after the hard work you put in today.”

“I still need to keep working though,” Ingrid shrugged, placing her tea on Mercedes’ bedside table. Mercedes shook her head.

“No. If you push yourself too much, you will fall behind. You need to pace yourself to make sure that you can be the best that you can be.”

Ingrid contemplated Mercedes’ advice, chewing the inside of her lip. “I suppose. But Dedue is so much better than me for His Highness. I will never be able to catch up if I don’t push myself now.”

Mercedes crossed the room and took a seat besides Ingrid, taking her hand in hers, squeezing reassuringly. “Ingrid. Don’t compare yourself to anyone. You are you, and so you will become a special knight in your own way.”

Ingrid sighed stared at the floor, following the cream spirals in the scarlet carpet. “Maybe… but I want to be useful to His Highness more than anything.”

Mercedes tried her best to hide her scowl. She squeezed Ingrid’s hand again and moved closer so that their knees touched. She almost shivered at the contact but leaned in more to whisper. “You are useful to others around you too. You are more than a knight too… don’t lose yourself in that.”

Ingrid shook her head and took her hand from Mercedes’, putting them both in lap, squeezing and pulling at the hem of her skirt, trying to swallow over the building lump in her throat. She fidgeted uncomfortably and hiccupped, wiping her eyes a little. She laughed. “Pathetic, aren’t I? What kind of knight will I be if I get upset so easily?”

More tears rolled down Ingrid’s face and Mercedes watched them fall again. Too often had she seen Ingrid cry over the last few days and yet, every time, it brought a burning heat to her stomach and caused her mouth to go dry, as if only those tears could hydrate her. She brought a hand to Ingrid’s far cheek and brought her face in close, kissing a single tear away. Ingrid smile softly, seemingly oblivious to the way that Mercedes ran her tongue over her lips to savour the salty sadness.

She kissed at her face again, lost in her own slightly masochistic desires: seeing Ingrid cry made her want to comfort her and yet, she wanted to see her cry more, to relish in the tears and taste them over and over again. Ingrid shivered in Mercedes’ palm and leaned away just a little.

“I think it best if I go, Mercie. Thank you for the tea but… I can’t keep getting upset like this.” Ingrid made to push up from the bed, but Mercedes pulled her back down by her arm.

“No. Please… stay.” Mercedes smiled at Ingrid, pleading with her eyes for the girl to stay. She could see her friend contemplating the though and then shaking her head, standing successfully this time.

“I don’t want to keep burdening you with my tears. Really, Mercie, thank you but… I should go.” Ingrid bowed her thanks and reached for the door. Her hand wrapped around the handle and twisted but a warm figure draped their arms over her shoulders and held her close.

“Ingrid… you’re not bothering me. I want you to stay. I want you to share your insecurities with me. I want you to cry,” Mercedes whispered into Ingrid’s back. Shocked by her friend’s sudden embrace, Ingrid struggled for words. She stammered and her grip on the doorknob tightened even more when she felt Mercedes’ hot breath on her neck.

“Uhh… I-I, um… Mercie, I really should-” she began.

Mercedes tongue flicked out and ran along Ingrid’s soft neck. Finally. Mercedes tasted the sweet skin of her friend, one arm wrapped over her shoulder, across her chest and the other underneath, reaching upwards a little. Mercedes’ eyes slid shut, lost in her own heat, tongue running up and then back down Ingrid’s soft skin. The other girl trembled and tried to lean away from the hot tongue dancing up her skin, but she only relinquished more of her skin over to the one attacking her.

“Mercie, please, I-I-” Ingrid choked and staggered feeling Mercedes’ deft, gentle and manicured hand dance along her skirt’s hemline, threatening to dip under. Ingrid suddenly pulled herself from Mercedes’ grip and wrenched open the door, trying to escape from her friend’s molestation. She let out a scream, however, when a hand gripped tightly in her hair and pulled her to the floor.

“Please, Ingrid. Please stay,” Mercedes cooed, tugging her hair a little harder. Ingrid let out another sharp yelp as Mercedes pulled her back into her room by her hair. She lifted her to her feet and threw her to the bed, bolting the door behind her. Ingrid trembled, petrified; the sudden strength from the gentle healer scared her but what scared her even more, was the hungry expression in her eyes. Her sapphire eyes were hooded, and soft breaths escaped her lips.

“Mercie, please. I want to go.”

Mercedes shook her head and instead took another step towards Ingrid, cupping her chin in her hand. Their eyes met; emerald orbs quaked with fear as sapphire ones hazed over with lust. The panic that swam in Ingrid’s eyes drew a heavy groan from Mercedes and she leaned in closer so that their foreheads almost touched. Ingrid instinctively flinched backwards but Mercedes jerked her forwards more.

“Please…” Ingrid pleaded. The begging desperation that dripped from Ingrid’s voice sent shivers through Mercedes’ whole body. She was wracked with desire after what she had already done, thus she was committed and there was no going back. Mercedes licked her lips and Ingrid’s eyes darted to the motion. Mercedes smirked and then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ingrid’s mouth.

Ingrid recoiled but sat completely still. Mercedes pressed another just above that, on her cheek and then even high still, on her cheekbone. Ingrid’s eyes were wrenched shut and wetness clung to her fair eyelashes. Mercedes breathed hungrily and then ran the tip of her tongue against the corner of Ingrid’s eyes, dragging her tongue downwards and towards her ear. Ingrid whimpered.

Mercedes climbed onto the bed, one knee either-side of Ingrid’s body and she let go of her chin. Putting a hand on Ingrid’s chest, she pushed her down onto the bed so that she lay on her back, hands to her chest, shaking and tears threatened to spill over again. Mercedes watched as Ingrid shuddered beneath her, relishing in the power she held over her close friend.

“P-P… Please… Mercie, I don’t… w-want…” Ingrid tried to venture out, hiccupping on her own words. Mercedes undid her shawl about her shoulders and wrung it between her hands, twisting the fabric about in front of herself, imagining the ways she could tie Ingrid up with it. Hands behind her back, hands above her head, hands to the bedframe: so many options. The images swimming in her head forced her to choose one quickly.

Mercedes forced Ingrid to flip over with a startled yelp and she pulled her hands behind her back. Ingrid suddenly began to writhe, trying her best to escape and push back against her friend. Mercedes lifted a leg and drove her knee into the small of Ingrid’s back, forcing her down to the bed. Ingrid let out another cry of pain and Mercedes leaned down over her, hushing her, cooing to her.

“Shh, now… it’s late. We don’t want to wake the others,” Mercedes smiled softly yet darkly. Ingrid struggled beneath her still though not as effectively with a painful knee driving into her back. All that training… and for what? The shawl tightened around Ingrid’s wrists, binding them together behind her back. She pulled at them, trying to twist her fingers in such a way that they’d be able to pull at the loose strands, but Mercedes’ body soon came down on her from behind, pushing down on her.

Mercedes’ tongue traced the shell of Ingrid’s ear and she bit down gently at first, earning her a gasp from Ingrid. It motivated her. She bit down again, and Ingrid gasped once more. Mercedes ground her body against Ingrid’s pushing her breasts against Ingrid’s neck, forcing her knee deeper still into Ingrid’s back. The knight-in-training let out a sharp cry and buried her face into the bedsheets, whimpering softly.

A soft hand came to Ingrid’s cheek and turned it to the side. “I said I wanted to see you cry, Ingrid, so please…” Mercedes whispered running her tongue against Ingrid’s cheek, lapping up the tear. “Let me.”

Ingrid was beyond petrified; trapped in a room with her best friend’s tongue against her face incessantly, pinned down and unable to move was one thing, but being unable to fight back or break free from some cloth? It humiliated her more than anything. She struggled harder, as hard as she could, determined to escape Mercedes’ touches but the weight on her back, grinding down against her meant she was powerless. And Mercedes knew this.

She continued to pepper Ingrid’s repulsed face with butterfly kisses and held her down with her leg whilst her free hand roamed down her friend’s body, wrapped around the front and resumed its place at the front of her skirt. Instinctively, Ingrid’s hips bucked upwards, away from the hand but this allowed Mercedes’ hand to slip between the bed and Ingrid’s hips and push underneath the fabric.

Ingrid gave a startled cry and felt her body seize up. She wanted to keep fighting but her body acted of its own will and froze, allowing Mercedes to do as she pleased. She wished that the owls passing by would fly for help, call for the Professor, or attack Mercedes. But they did nothing, so she whimpered when Mercedes’ fingers danced along the hem of her underwear.

“Mmh,” Mercedes murmured hotly against Ingrid’s sweaty skin. Her plump breasts were heavy against Ingrid’s shoulders and the knee in the middle of her back was slowly released, much to her relief. She instantly bucked upwards to try and throw Mercedes off her but the girl instead sat on her and straddled her, grinding down against her muscled behind.

“Come on, Ingrid…you said you wanted to be useful, right?” Mercedes muttered. Ingrid wrenched her eyes shut and tried to block out her friend’s words: they were cruel, taunting and being used against her. Mercedes pushed her fingers under the waistband of Ingrid’s underwear and tutted disappointedly when she felt a tuft of hair and not a drop of moisture.

“Tch,” she tutted. Mercedes slipped a finger between Ingrid’s vulva, but it was still useless. She brought another finger to join the first and spread Ingrid slightly, tracing the inside of her pussy but there was still nothing. Mercedes kissed Ingrid’s ear and took the lobe into her mouth, sucking softly, earing tiny whimpers and then drew back. “This won’t do.”

She turned Ingrid back over so that the two were face to face. Mercedes’ hair was unkempt and coming loose from its bow with Ingrid’s stuck to her face and caught on the edge of her mouth. With her hands still bound behind her back, Mercedes leaned in and captured Ingrid’s lips with her own, at last. Ingrid kept her mouth shut tight but let out shocked noise, shaking her head from side to side. With her hips firmly planted against Ingrid’s, Mercedes held Ingrid’s jaw tightly in her one hand and pinched her nose with the other.

Ingrid eventually gasped for breath and Mercedes plunged her tongue into her friend’s mouth. It was so good. Mercedes searched every corner of Ingrid’s mouth hungrily, savouring every corner, running her tongue against Ingrid’s teeth and over the other’s tongue. Ingrid cried openly, tears rolling down her face as she tried to fight back against Mercedes’ unwanted kiss. Mercedes pulled back and allowed saliva to connect their tongue.

Burning hot beneath her stockings, Mercedes could barely hold herself back. She tasted the sweetness of Ingrid’s mouth, the saltiness of her tears and yet she wanted to taste more of her. She shifted down her body and Ingrid tried to writhe away. Mercedes flipped Ingrid’s skirt upwards and pulled hastily at her leggings, nails scratching down her pale, toned thighs.

“I want to see you cry, Ingrid. I want to taste you, too. I want to know you the most intimately… is that so bad?” Mercedes whispered upwards, shifting on the bed to allow Ingrid’s legging to slide off her legs and to the floor. The blonde girl shuffled backwards up the bed, trying to escape from Mercedes clutches, eyes dry but tears still rolling.

“Please, Mercie, just let me go,” she begged, lower-lip quaking. Mercedes cooed softly, taking her friend’s face in her hands and then kissed her long on the lips. Ingrid wrenched her face from her friend’s hands and stared down at the bed with her knees knocked together tightly. Mercedes soft hands reached for either knee and with one swift movement, forced them apart easily. Ingrid gasped and tried to back away even more but her back was pressed against the wall.

“I want to taste every inch of you, Ingrid,” Mercedes murmured against Ingrid’s pale skin. Her hands skimmed the soft canvas of Ingrid’s pale and toned thighs, feeling them shiver under her touch. Her underwear was white and simple with soft blond curls peeking out from the sides. Mercedes wanted to bury her nose in those curls and inhale her musky, sweaty scent and so she leaned in closer, drawn in by what she desired the most in that moment.

“Forgive me, Goddess… for I am about to divulge in the greatest sin,” she whispered against Ingrid’s underwear, breathing in and pushing her tongue against the cotton. Ingrid tensed up and her toes curled. She tried to wrench her legs shut but Mercedes had a firm grip on her shaking thighs, keeping them spread. Mercedes blue eyes flickered up to meet Ingrid’s green ones once more and gazing up at that terrified expression drove Mercedes to bury her mouth into Ingrid’s mound.

Ingrid’s head knocked back against the wall and she cried out, pushing her knees together as hard as she could. Mercedes’ grip wavered but it was still strong as her tongue traced Ingrid’s outer and inner labia through the cotton underwear until she could hold back no longer. She drew forward more saliva and sucked hard at Ingrid’s clit, coating it through the fabric. Ingrid cried out again, her moan transforming into a soft cry. She wept softly, allowing Mercedes to lap at her underwear.

Keeping Ingrid’s legs propped open with one hand and using her elbow for the other, Mercedes used one of her hands to pull the underwear aside and finally, she could taste the most intimate part of Ingrid without anything between them. Breathing against the hot pussy before her, Mercedes pushed her tongue between the delicate folds and let her nose push against Ingrid’s blonde pubic hair.

“Mmph…” Mercedes hummed, sending vibrations up through Ingrid’s body. Ingrid trembled and hung her head weakly, teeth chattering, defeated as Mercedes’ mouth serviced and searched her body. How had it come to this? How could her friend have done this to her? How could she overpower her so easily? Was she really as weak as _this_ – to be _raped_ so easily?

Mercedes’ tongue swirled deeply inside of Ingrid’s folds, licking and tasting every inch of her sweet folds. She tasted precisely as Ingrid would; a mixture of sweetness and sweat. Her scent swam through Mercedes’ head and her eyes fell closed once more, using her thumbs to keep Ingrid’s pussy spread and the rest of her hands to keep her legs spread apart though, at this stage, Ingrid had long given up.

Mercedes’ nose brushed against Ingrid’s curls until she finally had to draw back for breath. Ingrid’s sweet wetness rolled down her chin, a mix of saliva and Ingrid connecting Mercedes’ panting lips to her rosy pussy folds. Mercedes took another deep breath and hungrily returned, sucking on Ingrid’s clit, harder than before, flicking with her tongue. Ingrid’s knees shuddered and almost wrapped around Mercedes’ head, if it weren’t for the strong hands keep them apart.

“Please…! Mercie…! Don’t!” Ingrid begged, head rolled against the wall again and shaking fervently, desperately. Mercedes was even further motivated by Ingrid’s begging, watching the flushed expression on her friend’s face as she struggled to resist the vibrations coursing through her. Mercedes could feel that she herself was soaked through her stockings, letting go of Ingrid’s one leg to rub at herself between her stockings and underwear.

“Mmh, let me see your tears, Ingrid… it’s okay to cry,” she whispered against her friend’s pussy, returning to swirling her tongue on rhythmic circles around her clit, sucking and kissing every so often. She breathed through her nose steadily, trying to concentrate, watching the frustrated tears roll down Ingrid’s face. Her legs kicked out and clamped on either side of Mercedes’ head, but she made no effort to struggle free.

“Mercie… I-I… I can’t! Don’t, please… I-I… h-hah…!” Ingrid’s hips bucked upwards involuntarily, hard against Mercedes’ mouth, earning a startled moan from her. Mercedes’ eyes rolled back into her head as her fingers kept working at her own sopping pussy through her stockings as Ingrid continued to fight against her own body but to no avail as she quaked and finally shuddered violently, body curling forward so that her fair fell into her face and she let out a long, defeated moan.

Mercedes looked up to see Ingrid’s eyes wrenched shut and tears clinging to her lashes, streaking down her cheeks and her mouth was agape. Saliva rolled down her lower lip freely, landing on Mercedes’ cheek. Ingrid’s face was bright red and when she finally opened her eyes, an expression of pathetic failure crossed her face. She whimpered and buckled forwards, sobbing uncontrollably as her body trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm as Mercedes lapped up the last sweet drops of Ingrid’s release.

Mercedes breathed hard and let go of Ingrid’s legs. She pushed herself back up and took Ingrid’s face in her hands. The other girl wept freely, weak and pitiful in her friend’s hands.

“Shh, shh… Ingrid, it’s okay,” Mercedes whispered, kissing away the salty tears once more, embracing the other gently. Ingrid continued to cry; hands still bound behind her back.

“M-M… M-Mercie…” she stuttered weakly; hiccupping, throat hoarse and quaking with each breath she took in. Mercedes’ hands against her skin burned. She hated that gentle touch against her skin, and she pulled away from the embrace. A moment passed. A firm hand found its way into Ingrid’s hair once more and tugged, forcing her head back.

Mercedes smiled, sickeningly sweet. “It’s okay to cry, Ingrid.”


End file.
